Survivors
by Yet to be Broken
Summary: What if the dead tributes... Never really died?


**Cato**

_I sat in the field on the outskirts of District 2 with her, not saying a word. We watched the sunrise together today, possibly for the last time. It was reaping day, and I was saying goodbye to my fiancé, Amelia. "Cato, please don't go," She begged me. "Screw the honor and glory – I don't want to lose you."_

_I shook my head and sighed. "You know it's not that easy. Everyone is expecting me to volunteer. I was chosen. If I don't, I'll be the laughingstock of District 2 for generations to come."_

"_But what about us?" She looked at me, her brown eyes pleading. "Are you willing to throw all this away?"_

"_Who's to say I won't be the one returning?" I gave her a reassuring smile and added a wink for good measure. "I'll make it home, Mia. I'm not going down without a fight."_

"_Cato…" She sighed. "I should've known it would all be in vain. Of course you're going to go."_

"_And I'm going to come back," I promised, choking on the lump in my throat._

_She leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips. "I know you will. But I'm going to miss you a lot while you're gone."_

"_You're going to get to see me on TV the entire time," I kissed her in response, a bit more passionately, simply because I knew I wouldn't be able to for a while. If ever again._

* * *

I woke from my dream with a start. There was a young man, probably not much older than me, sitting at the foot of my bed. "Who are you?" I questioned. "Where am I?"

"You're on a hovercraft," He responded nonchalantly, as if this was a common conversation for him. "My name is Sorrell. You are now a survivor of the 74th Hunger Games."

"Wait – what?" I shook my head. "No, I died. District 12 shot me. I remember it."

"So you thought," he gave me a wink and tapped on the small lump on my forearm where my tracker was concealed. "This tracker does more than just track. When you "die" in the Games, the device does all that it can to keep you alive. Of course, it can't always work. But you weren't beyond saving, thank goodness. We almost lost you."

"So, I just made it out without a scratch?" I inquired, feeling a strange burst of happiness. I actually survived?

Sorrell sighed. "Not exactly. You're alive, Cato, and functioning, but… Because of how severely you were mauled before your death, there was significant damage done to your nervous system, some of which was beyond repairing," he pulled a wheelchair into my field of vision. "You're not going to be able to walk for the foreseeable future, if ever again."

I felt as though I'd just been shot again. My entire life had been spent on my feet, training and fighting. How could that all be over just like this? "Who even are you?"

"I told you, my name is Sorrell," He responded.

"I don't mean your name. Where are you from? Clearly not the Capitol, probably not any of the districts, either. So, who are you?"

"I am this year's representative to the dead tributes of the 74th Hunger Games," Sorrell replied. "As for where I'm from… you've probably heard of District 13."

* * *

**Glimmer**

I'd been walking around the hovercraft for days now. I was the first Career to die this year, which is awfully embarrassing, but it couldn't be helped. How was I supposed to know that stupid District 12 would drop that hive on me? I stared in the mirror, frowning at the damage it caused. Sure, I functioned properly, aside from slight problems with my vision that could probably be fixed after some time. The worst was the damage done to my physical appearance. My beautiful face, my flawless skin, covered in disgusting scars that pulled and twisted and distorted my entire body. A scar on my cheek, long and silvery, twisted my mouth into something that resembled a permanent smile.

I mostly kept to myself, embarrassed to let anyone see me this way. I'd used all of my time building my personality to reflect my appearance. Sexy, flirty, the ditzy blonde girl that somehow made it to the Hunger Games despite my lack of talent. My only consolation was that I was going with my best friend, Marvel, who somehow made me feel brave up until the very end. In the very end, when he ran away and left me to fight off those tracker jackers all by myself. When I finally saw him, he'd be in for it.

I sighed, remembering the rules that Sorrell had told me once I was up and about. No fighting with the other tributes, no matter what happened during the Games. We all died in the Games, we're all in the same exact position. We also were forbidden to attempt to contact anyone at home. If word got out that there were survivors, the Capitol would have us all killed.

I jumped slightly when I heard the knock at my door. "Yes?" I called out tentatively.

"Glimmer? It's me," I was relieved to hear Sorrell's voice. Out of everyone here, Sorrell was by far my favorite. He didn't stare at the scar like everyone else did.

"Come on in," I replied, relaxing.

He opened the door, carrying a tray of food. "I brought you your lunch. I figured you were still in hiding."

"I can't just leave this room, you know that," I replied, accepting the tray of food. It wasn't as extravagant as the food back home. In fact, the meals here were quite simple. Today, I was given a small bowl of a beef stew, a roll, a bit of butter, and mashed potatoes. "Everyone stares at me."

"So?" He tilted his head, giving me his sideways smile.

"Besides, there are tributes out there that I killed. I'm not ready to face them yet."

"I understand," he sighed. "Eat up, okay? You're too thin."

"I'll keep stuffing myself until I can't count my ribs," I assured him. "How's everyone else?"

"I just left Cato," he told me hesitantly.

"That bad?" I inquired.

"He likely won't be able to use his lower body for quite a while," he informed me. "The nerve damage was just too bad. He'll be in a wheelchair. When you see him – and yes, you're going to have to see him eventually – try not to mention it. He seems really sensitive about it."

I noticed the way he kept his eyes locked with mine, instead of allowing them to trail over my body like most boys did. Before he got up and left the room, he added, "You don't have any reason to be ashamed of those scars, Glimmer. You're beautiful all the same."

And with that, I was alone.

* * *

**Hey everyone! It's been FOREVER since I wrote a fanfic, and I figured it was about time that I tried it again. Anyway, I hope you all like this idea! I'm going to focus on two tributes per chapter. Next chapter will be all about Rue and Foxface, so stay tuned!**


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